


we fall back (over and around each other)

by strangesmallbard



Series: snapshots of swan queen [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Developing Relationship, F/F, emma and regina do not die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 20:43:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8072113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangesmallbard/pseuds/strangesmallbard
Summary: even though they can never become the kind of friends who can walk to class together, it’s enough. that laughter. at beside the lake, in the astronomy tower, at the edge of the forbidden forest.the big things come up, because growing up is hard when the people around you can’t possibly understand not belonging. curling up in every single position and finding that an elbow still doesn’t fit.**eleven snapshots of swan queen in the hp universe (again).





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is a slight remix of "what we lived for" if only because i took a similar premise, and changed approximately every detail for a different au. and i might like this one better. i'm terrible.
> 
> also, this was supposed to be headcanons, but instead it became a full-ish fic.

1. 

they don’t hate each other first year. that’s not it. 

emma is reeling from this new world where she maybe belongs but not yet, not while she doesn’t know why she’s lucky she isn’t in slytherin, though. they eat muggleborns alive there. emma isn’t even sure about that. just about the in-betweens; missing the growl of engines that race by her window, but not her foster parents’ glares. looking up at the stars on the great hall ceiling with wonder, but wilting like summer into autumn when someone asks about quidditch and they laugh when she says _is that like football._

she sits next to emma in charms and knows how to perfectly levitate the feather for a perfect ten seconds. emma doesn’t know (yet) that her mother made her practice until she could. emma doesn’t know (yet) that regina would much rather have gotten those callouses from quidditch.

regina mills watches the red-and-gold on emma’s tie and thinks about whether the sorting hat was right. the slytherin dungeons are freezing. even with a heating spell, carefully copied from a book in the library, the slytherin dungeons are freezing.

so, when regina gives advice, not even knowing whether it’s intended to be friendly or not, _try holding the wand more loosely,_ emma says _i don’t need any help, especially yours_.

2. 

things come to hexes in the great hall, and mcgonagall makes them talk to each other. she finds them laughing over emma getting the snot flavored bean.

even though they can never become the kind of friends who can walk to class together, it’s enough. that laughter. at beside the lake, in the astronomy tower, at the edge of the forbidden forest.

the big things come up, because growing up is hard when the people around you can’t possibly understand not belonging. curling up in every single position and finding that an elbow still doesn’t fit.

3.

as warmth huddles at the edges of april, emma worries more about quidditch than graduation. that’s a big thing. an over thing. 

regina looks up from her textbook. one of her legs is haphazardly swung over the other and her tie is loose around her neck. “swan, you’re the best seeker that gryffindor’s had since potter.”

emma quirks a brow. “shouldn’t the competition be hazing me instead of giving me compliments?”

regina bumps their shoulders with something sly crooking her mouth. “well, you wouldn’t pose very much of a challenge on the field if you didn’t have confidence. i’m, personally, looking forward to a _good_ game.”

“well,” emma says, not able to keep from smiling. “telling me your ruse isn’t going to help you much either.”

the sly turns gentle into a smile of her own, already crinkles at the sides of her eyes. emma is mesmerized now, then, and someday when that smile still pulls through the bramble. “who says that was my ruse?”

emma snorts. “see you after for a study session? my hiccoughing potion is still more grey than yellow.”

regina’s smile tugs down. she stands up. “perhaps,” she says. “i have to…zelena wants to talk to me tonight. sister business.”

emma’s heart lurches underneath a rib. “regina, are–”

she squeezes her hand and throws her another smile as she passes. “have a safe game tomorrow, emma. of course, _i'll_ be the one winning, but all the same.”

emma laughs, listless to her own ears. "you wish!"

4. 

wars are tricky. full of tricks and trickery and. people making choices. people making the wrong choices.

emma thought that regina mills chose something, but she didn’t. she’s going to be released from azkaban with a medal, for her espionage, for bravery, and emma hasn’t seen her since she called her a death eater to her face in a hogwarts corridor. wand up. at the neck.

“there’s jack shit you can say to a person after you accuse them of turning into their evil mother,” emma relays to ruby the day after (voldemort) dies at the hands of baby harry potter. firewhiskey stings the roof of her mouth.

“try jack shit, then? ruby says. the pub, once so full of celebration, is now subdued with aftershocks. they both look around, not quite sure where to put their hands, when to get up and place their feet on the hardwood. 

emma wants to laugh, but it would be hollow. “i miss her,” she says. “she was an asshole, and i miss her.”

“an asshole that wasn’t a death eater,” ruby reminds.

“right,” emma says. “it doesn’t even make _sense_  that i would think–”

“emma,” ruby murmurs. “tomorrow.”

5.

“let me get this straight,” emma says in front of her boss’s desk, “you want me to work with a _hogwarts_ professor to capture zelena mills?”

mad-eye glares. “she’s fought in the war, swan. she’s no sleeping kneazle teaching history to first years.”

“when’s the last time she caught a death eater?"

“doesn’t matter. you’re the auror.”

“then, why–”

mad-eye circles the desk. “she’s the sister.”

6.

“i’m not working with her,” regina says the minute emma walks into that office. doesn’t even look at her. “surely you have more than one auror in this building?”

shacklebolt only smiles. “she’s the lead on the search for zelena. there won’t be another that knows her better. except you, professor mills.”

regina is beautiful. she’s always been beautiful but she’s. emma wonders what it would have been like, seeing regina after she first cut her hair. teaching her first class. merlin, regina as a _teacher._  getting laugh lines. worry lines. kissing them. no. regina by the fire, talking about potions. regina with a dark mark.

regina with a–

she’s looking at emma. “fine,” she says. “if that’s the way it has to be.”

7.

(”you stay the hell away from my sister,” zelena says, face in emma’s. “you don’t understand how much _danger–”ˆ_

emma throws her off. ”maybe _you_ should stay the hell away. all you ever do is….you know, i’ve always wondered what a family would be like, but then i see how you treat _her_ and–

zelena screams and presses her wand to emma’s jugular. “little _mudblood_ , you’ll never–)

8.

“floo or apparation?”

“neither,” regina says crisply. “i’ve made a portkey.”

“of course you did.”

“what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“it’s just very slytherin of you,” emma says.

regina snorts. “how very _sixth_ year of _you_ , swan. i thought you were the professional here.”

“i didn’t mean it in a–” she pinches the bridge of her nose. “i know you’re not actually a dark magic user.”

regina clucks her tongue. “if only the world was just like that.”

emma knows. that’s not it.

9.

it was impossibly easy to find zelena. maybe she wanted to be found. 

the fight was short and not-sweet, and emma felt like an intruder watching zelena break down against regina’s shoulder.

“i haven’t been warm for ages, regina,” zelena says, impossibly quiet.

“i know,” regina says, hand brushing over her hair. “i know.”

for a moment, it could all be alright. azkaban non-withstanding. maybe zelena was just tired. maybe she was running from more than them.

in a whiplash, zelena pushes regina away from her, an avada-kedavra on her lips. she only manages one syllable before regina gently turns the spell around.

they watch the body in the grass, still as midnight, and emma doesn’t even notice when her hand reaches for regina’s back.

10.

the most surprising thing about it all is that after, regina invites her out for drinks in the leaky cauldron. the firewhiskey tries to burn away the day, but her hands still feel clammy around the glass. 

“i’m–” emma begins, and regina looks at her with. those eyes. “the war really fucked everything up. that’s not an excuse, but–”

“i did what i had to,” regina says. “no matter how the prophet painted me, i was no messiah. i did what i had to. if you had reacted any other way, i would have surprised. i did…” she laughs and runs a hand through the back of her hair. “he was killed by a one year old,” she laughs and laughs.

looking at her is as hard as looking at the sun, but emma does it and can’t laugh with her yet. “i should have understood,” she says. 

regina’s laughter trails off as she reaches for her glass, takes a sip. when she looks back at emma, her eyes shine. “that day, all i wan–” she shakes her head. “no, i shouldn’t have...i should have reached out to you sooner.”

emma shakes her head and the firewhiskey swarms up to it, fuzzing her thoughts but no. she has to get this out. untangle them from tired sinew taut with waiting for the end, for the start, for. this. quiet almost tomorrows. “i had to do shit too," she says, on the verge of shaking. she is shaking. "shit that i…seems unimaginable even now that i’m a damn auror.”

regina, to her great surprise, reaches to settle a hand over emma's forearm. she hovers a few inches over it and just as she's about to move away, emma nods. settles a hand across regina's. scattered days held together. regina nods, almost lethargic. she pulls her hand away, and runs it behind her jaw, across the back of her neck. looking like she's somewhere else. the quidditch field, the rest of everything kept far. the grass field.

god, regina lost her sister tonight. not tonight, probably. but. there's something to be said about processions.

“it’s almost halloween, emma," she says with a hint of a familiar sly smile. "let’s knock one back.”

11.

emma doesn’t know what fucking compels her to go to regina’s office with like, flowers. she suspects no one gave regina flowers for it. that’s why. but they’re not friends, one night of drinking and feeling like shit doesn't count as friendship, and emma hasn’t been to hogwarts since she graduated so. this is fucking weird as hell.

regina accepts the flowers with careful hands. “thanks,” she says. “you didn’t have to.”

“i kinda did,” emma says. “i really did. i read the prophet.”

“it would be an interesting to see her article and mine side by side,” regina says, leaning agains her desk. emma can’t read her expression except for the droop in her brow. the circles underneath her eyes. 

emma hesitantly sits next to her. “i’m sorry,” emma says. “for the slytherin comment the other day. that was just. it doesn’t matter. are things better now? i mean, are kids between houses getting along?”

regina gives a low, sardonic laugh. “yesterday i had to pry harry potter and draco malfoy away from each other before one of them got killed, again.”

“harry potter? _the–_ shit.”

“it would take a lot for slytherin to change, and it would have to start outside the school. we bring what learn here.”

“shit,” emma says, again. “is that why…i mean, you’re here.”

regina looks at her and emma watches her crows feet. “i’m here for us,” she says.”

emma blinks. “for–?”

“there are many, many more reginas-and-emmas. i’m here to see that they make it. that they have people to go to. that their parents’ worlds or...the ones outside aren’t the only ones that exist.”

“and i joined the aurors to fight their parents,” emma says with a wry kind of smile, but inside it hurts. everything hurts from her ribs to something right in the middle of her chest. it festers up her neck. they didn’t make it.

regina stands up. she takes out her wand and dims the lights in the room, turns back to emma. “it's late. i have to get back to my rooms to feed the cat."

she watches the flowers in regina's hands, the pinks still bright. 

they didn’t make it. 

emma clears her throat. “do you have any papers to grade tonight? nothing around the ministry really beats butterbeer from the three broomsticks.”

regina’s smile is a sunset, the gentle golden settling over the bright and softening every edge of the world. emma can’t stop looking. “no, i can’t imagine anything that does.”


End file.
